Dusk
by classic99lady00
Summary: Brennan Swan's move to Forks, a small, perpetually rainy town in Washington, could have been the most boring move he ever made. But once he meets the mysterious and alluring Elise Cullen, Brennan's life takes a thrilling and terrifying turn. *Anything that looks or sounds like it's Stephanie Meyers - is hers! Everything else is mine*
1. Forks and Spoons, Demons and Angels

Dad drove me to the airport. He tried to talk me out of the move, right before I boarded. But I'd made up my mind weeks ago that I was going to live in Forks with my mom and he was going to have the time of his life in Paris, Rome and Beijing, working alongside my awesome step-mom, Penny. It was ridiculous for him to pass this job up when I only had about two more years of dependence left. Seriously, it wouldn't make sense.

So we said our final goodbyes, Dad pulled me in for a longer than normal hug, and I was on the plane with my waterproof jacket over my arm and a paperback in my pocket.

As it usually was in Washington, the sky was cloudy and dark when my mom and I walked out of the airport. I'd said farewell to sunlight and warmth back in Phoenix, so putting on my jacket wasn't as monumental as I'd thought it would be. No violins yet.

"So, how was your flight?" Carly, my mom, asked while she led me to her car.

"It was good," I said lamely. "I finished my book."

"That's cool. What book?"

"Uh, Sherlock Holmes."

"Is it good?"

"Sure."

Mom nodded, her curly hair bouncing on her shoulders, and popped the trunk.

She was shorter than me by about a foot and her hair was lighter brown, more chocolaty than muddy. She had blue eyes and was pretty as far as mothers go. I might've looked more like my dad but my personality was more like my mother's. It'd be interesting, not to mention a little awkward, living with someone as quiet as I was; conversation in the car certainly was.

"I've been looking for a job for you, like you asked," she said a few minutes later, just as we pulled onto the highway. "There are a couple of places I think you'd like working at."

"Yeah? Where?" Please, don't say restaurant.

"Well, I looked into a few food places," she started, "and I checked with a couple of stores. Several were looking to hire."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, trying not to act like some petulant teenager. I don't think Carly would know what to do with that.

My lack of enthusiasm spurred her into adding, "There was also an opening at the old folks' home, helping the grounds-keeper, but… I didn't think you'd…"

"No…" I interrupted, "I think that sounds like my kind of thing. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome," my mom answered. Her opinion about my preference in jobs was unreadable.

I had to do community service for a class once and I'd really liked talking to the old guys in the rest home back in Phoenix. My dad always teased me about it, saying that I was fifty years old already on the inside. I'd never argued with him; I didn't get along with kids my own age very well.

The rest of our ride was quiet. I could sense a pattern forming. I spent the silence looking out at the never-ending forest, wondering if I would recognize some of the trees around the house in Forks. I was pretty sure I'd get pneumonia a month into my stay, with all the water in the air. At the very least, I was sure to become color blind to green and gray.

The house had the same square-footage as a handkerchief: white siding, navy blue door, two-bedrooms, one bathroom, tiny kitchen, and small living room. It was a good thing there were just two of us.

My room hadn't even been touched since my Dad whisked me away to Phoenix. The blue wallpaper was outdated, but I could see Carly had tried to upgrade things; there was a desk instead of a changing table and a bed instead of crib. The wooden rocking chair from my baby days was still there in the corner.

"So…" my mom said, setting one of my bags on the bed, straightening the patchwork quilt as she talked. "I was thinking for dinner we could go to the restaurant on Main Street. You remember the owner, right? Marissa Yorkie?"

"Uh, not really. Sorry." I started dumping out my clothes on the floor in front of the dresser.

Carly waved her hand, "Doesn't matter. Does that sound alright, though? I don't really have anything to eat in the house right now…"

"Yeah, it's fine," I answer, shrugging as I knelt and started to fold the pile of clothes, placing them in the drawers.

"Great," Carly says, giving me a wan half-smile. "So uh… I've got work to catch up on. I'll let you get to it." She left.

That's one good thing about my mom; she doesn't hover. It would've been nigh on impossible to get rid of Penny, my step-mom.

I sighed despondently, tossing a shirt into the dresser, and shifted around to sit with my back to the wall, staring out the green-infested window.

My mom was the D.A. in Forks. The town was so small, even a small-talker like her could be a lawyer. I had never asked why, but being the D.A. meant a lot to Carly; she'd fought tooth and nail for the position, and she worked her fingers to the bone to keep it. My dad said that, even after I was born, she had barely spent more than four hours of the day at home. It was why my dad had filed for divorce, saying that her marriage to her job was more important than theirs. The judge had agreed, and my dad had been given custody of their son. Carly hadn't fought the decision. Again, I had never asked why.

I stood and walked over to the window. Trees surrounded the yard so that the neighbors were screened from sight. The lot across the street was owned by one of the neighbors, and they'd left it unused. If I were to go on looks alone, it would seem that the house was miles away from everything. I wasn't hard to imagine just how alone that would make me.

Fighting the feelings of misery, I turned back to my room and set to work.

Fifteen minutes later, clothes put away, books stacked along the back of the desk, shoes and all my other crap in the closet, and I was done. No one would ever have a reason to call me sentimental, at least not when talking about personal effects.

I walked down the stairs, purposely making my steps heavy and loud so I wouldn't have to announce my appearance. I ended up having to anyway, since Carly was waist-deep in her books in the living room.

Forks and Spoons. That was the name of the dinner she took me to. The name was a lot funnier when I was little. I could barely remember the last time I came here, back before Carly had started visiting me in Phoenix instead of me coming to Forks.

Carly went through the doors first and she was greeted by several of the customers. I followed her to an empty table, regretting my decision to pull down the hood of my jacket; everybody was staring. Literally everyone. A couple would guiltily drop their eyes when I made eye contact, but most would just keep on staring right back at me.

I shifted in my seat, pulling the menu up in order to hide behind it.

The owner of the dinner, Marissa Yorkie, appeared a second later. She was a middle-aged woman with really thick glasses, and she couldn't seem to decide who to look at, me or Carly, when she was taking my mom's order. I hadn't actually looked at the menu, so I just ordered the same thing.

"So, you're starting school tomorrow, aren't you Brennan?" Mrs. Yorkie asked, putting her hand on her hip.

I nodded, smiling politely.

"Well, I'll have to let my daughter know to look out for you! It's always nice to know someone on your first day!" she exclaimed and then walked away.

"So… uh…" Carly started, leaning her elbows on the table. "How's… how's your dad? When does he leave for that job?"

"He's fine. He and Penny are leaving at the end of the month."

Carly smiled awkwardly and fiddled with her sleeve, "That's good. Really good. I'm happy for them."

I just nodded my head.

It was kind of obvious that Carly had never gotten over my dad. She'd kept all of the old paintings he'd hung up around the house and I knew for a fact that she still had one of his old jackets hanging in the closet. I don't think she even officially changed her name back to Thompson until my dad married Penny a year ago.

"As for tomorrow, do you need anything? Pencils, notebooks…?" Carly asked.

I shook my head, "No. I've got everything. Thanks, Mom."

"Well um…" she tucked a piece of hair behind her hair, "do you need me to drop you off in the morning? I know you want to save up for a car…"

"Yeah. Um… I'll probably just walk. It isn't that far from the house, is it?"

"No, it's not. Just right off Main Street. We passed it on the way here."

I nodded without comment. A sinking feeling was beginning to pull at my stomach. I'd never been the out-going type. That, coupled with the fact that everyone around here had been together since they were in diapers, ensured that I was definitely out of my element. The entire student body at Forks High was probably smaller than my old school's senior class. There'd be nowhere to hide in a school so small.

"Hey, Carly!"

We both looked up in surprise to see a teenage girl walking towards us. She wore an overly large sweatshirt and a baseball cap backwards over her messy ponytail. She couldn't be any older than fifteen, being so stick-thin and lanky. Judging by her coppery-toned skin and jet-black, bone-straight hair, I would guess that she was of American Indian decent. I knew there was a reservation close-by.

"Jackie! Hi!" Carly said warmly. "What are you doing in town?"

The girl, Jackie, grabbed a chair from one of the unoccupied tables and dragged it over to ours, sitting down. "I was just dropping off some of my mom's tea to Mr. Harley. I saw your car outside and decided to come say hi before I go home."

"Well, you know my son Brennan," Carly said, smiling over at me. "Brennan, this is Jackie Black. Betty Black's daughter."

Betty was my mom's best friend, or the closest that she could get, working the hours she did. I used to play with Robbie and Rickie, Beth's twin sons about my age, when I was visiting up here. I could vaguely remember there being a little sister.

"Hi," I greeted.

"What's up?" Jackie asked, smiling. "You're coming to live here, huh? You ready for your first day of school?" Jackie drawled, rolling her eyes up and biting her lip in fake enthusiasm, lifting her hands with her thumb and pinkie outstretched.

"Eh…" I hedged, shrugging. I didn't really want to go into it, seeing as how I'd already had this conversation about twenty seconds ago.

"Do you go to the school out here?" I asked.

"Nah. I go to school on the rez. Too bad, huh?"

I nodded. It would've been nice to know someone before I showed up on the first day. Jackie seemed cool.

"You guys coming to my mom's birthday party on Saturday?" Jackie asked.

"Oh, I really don't know, Jackie," my mom said worriedly. "I definitely want to, but I might have to go to Portland. I have a case coming up next week that I need to prepare for."

"Oh, come on!" Jackie protested. "You're always working! My mom will only turn…" she mouthed the words _forty-eight_ "…once, you know!"

Carly laughed, "I'll definitely try, Jackie, but I might just have to send Brennan over with her gift and make it up to her later."

"I uh… I have no clue how to get there, Mom," I said. "Not to mention, I don't have a car."

Jackie's dark eyes lit up, "Well, you know, if you're in the market, I would definitely be able to help you out. Not to brag, but uh.." she plucked at her jacket arrogantly "… I know my vehicles."

I laughed behind my fist, "Yeah, well, I need to get a job first. Shouldn't be too long though. Mom was looking into it for me before I got here."

"Cool, cool," Jackie nodded. "And as for 'not knowing where to go,' you'll find out pretty soon that houses aren't all that hard to find up here. Just a matter of keeping your eyes open. You're a city kid; should be a piece of cake for you."

Mrs. Yorkie suddenly appeared with our food, looking at Jackie. "Do you want to order something, honey?" she asked.

"Ah, no," Jackie said, shaking her head and rising to her feet. "I should get going. But I'll see you guys around." She waved at us on the way out the door.

I watched through the window as Jackie climbed into the driver's seat of an old black Ford truck. "Should she even be driving? How old is she?"

Carly looked up and smiled, "Jackie is fifteen. But don't worry. I _am_ the D.A. of this town. Do you really think I'd let Betty's only daughter drive around if she couldn't handle it?"

I shrugged, "It's just surprising."

"Jackie's had to grow up pretty early," Carly elaborated, spreading ketchup all over her hamburger. "She's been Betty's care provider ever since the accident. Her older brothers would be here if they could, but Rickie's abroad with the Navy and Robbie needs to finish his degree before his college funds run out."

Betty had been in the same car accident that'd killed her husband and she came away paralyzed. Now, she was confined to a wheelchair. Thinking about how young Jackie was, made me wonder at her up-beat attitude. I couldn't imagine being that responsible for someone, especially not if it was my parent. My dad could be a bit hare-brained and would need to be reminded to pay the bills and things like that, but he'd always been _my_ provider. Not the other way around.

Carly and I ate our food fairly quickly, and were headed home just as another storm began to blow through. The bright yellow lights of the house were stark after the grey light outside.

"I _would _invite you to watch T.V., but it's still in the process of being fixed," my mom said as we removed our coats.

"That's fine," I answered. "I'm kind of tired, so I'll probably just go to bed."

"Alright," Carly said, smiling at me a little sadly.

Freshly showered and dressed in my ratty old sweatpants, I stood in front of the fogged-up bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. Something about the cold, wet atmosphere of Forks made me look sickly pale. Already, I was beginning to look as if I hadn't seen the sun in months. I'd always been pale, and I didn't even have the red hair or freckles to go with it; I should be tan, blond, and round-shouldered, all the things that come with the Valley of the Sun. Thanks to puberty, I'd grown to a respectable height of 6' 1" and by some miracle, I lost the lankiness when I topped off. I _might've_ looked like I could _possibly_ play basketball, but I made a habit of avoiding sports and exercise equipment and anything else that could irritate my curse of clumsiness. Seriously, I was so klutzy it should be deemed a handicap, which made no sense because my parents were as nimble as cats. My dad tried curing me of it by putting me in junior basketball as a child, but after the second concussion within a month, he gave it up.

I ran my hands over my face and then over the back of my head. My hair was going to need a trim soon. If it got any longer, I was going to have to style it, but if my hair were too short, it'd be very easy to see the scars. I was just glad that my accident-prone ways had spared my face. My nose was still straight, my mouth naturally disproportional but left unscarred, my eyes slightly too small for my cheekbones but equal sizes. I wasn't necessarily ugly, but I definitely didn't qualify as handsome; at least not in the traditional sense. Having big blue eyes would've been helpful in the girl department. At least I had my grandpa's sharp jaw.

Disgusted with myself, I snapped off the light and went to my bedroom.

.

Life just wasn't fair. That's what I was thinking as I made my way through the next day. I guess I should've thought more about what shoes I was going to wear, because sneakers was the obvious choice to avoid when walking through a rainstorm. I arrived at Forks High with soggy feet and an attitude less than savory.

Almost as soon as I entered the building, a short, black-haired girl popped up out of nowhere, smiling at me enthusiastically from behind her red-rimmed glasses.

"Hi, you're new here, right? Brennan Swan?" she asked. "I'm Erin Yorkie. My mom told me to look out for you. She said that she met you at the dinner last night."

I was a little blown away by her word vomit, but I collected my manners and greeted her, "Yeah. I'm Brennan. It's nice to meet you, Erin." I stuffed my hands in my pockets in case she was a hand-shaker.

Erin grinned happily, and I got the distinct impression that she was one of those over-helpful, over-the-top cheerleader types.

"So, can I help you find anything? Have you registered yet?" she asked, confirming my suspicions.

"No, not yet," I answered.

Erin's smile turned mega-watt and she replied, "I'll show you the office!"

I just nodded, suddenly very conscious of the group of girls standing off to one side. They were all whispering to one another and, every once in a while, they would turn to look at me with wide eyes. A school like this must not get very many new faces. Hip-hooray for the new kid.

As we were walking, Erin asked, "Where did you live before, Brennan?"

"Phoenix. Arizona."

She looked me over, "Shouldn't you be… I don't know… tan?" She giggled, assuring me that she was still friendly.

"Yeah, my grandmother was part-albino."

Erin's eyes widened and she became quiet.

I really needed to remember not to use sarcasm around here.

Mr. Cope, the secretary, gave me my school schedule and a map of the school, which I was definitely grateful for. But he also gave me this slip of paper for all the teachers to sign; something about acknowledging the fact that I'm in their classes. Great.

Erin happened to be in my first class, which happened to be English with Mrs. Mason, so she walked with me. She actually offered to help me find the rest of my classes on the map in my hand, and I decided it might be a good idea so I wouldn't have to walk around with it in front of my nose. Turns out, I can't listen to Erin explaining building-geography and walk down a clean hallway at the same time; not that it's surprising that I can't. My clumsiness became painfully obvious to everyone as I tripped on some unknown object and landed on my hands and knees, blushing profusely.

"Oh! Are you ok, Brennan?" Erin squeaked, kneeling next to me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I murmured, mortified, hoping that some hole in the floor would appear so I could dive in.

"Are you alright?" another voice asked, making me cringe.

I looked up to see a cute blond girl standing next to me, holding out a hand. I took it and she helped me up, being surprisingly strong for her size.

"Thanks," I said as Erin handed me my bag.

"No problem!" the blond girl said. "I'm Michaela Newton. Mike for short."

"Brennan Swan," I replied.

"The D.A.'s son from Arizona?" Mike asked. "Yeah, I heard you were moving up here. When did you get here?"

"Yesterday," I answered, looking around at all the curious faces and wondering how she'd found out where I was from.

"Well, what's your first class?" Mike asked. "Maybe we could walk together."

"English. Mrs. Mason," Erin answered for me. She wasn't smiling nearly as brightly as before.

Mike looked disappointed, "Shucks. Well, hey, maybe we'll have some other class together."

I just nodded, my shoulders bunched up uncomfortably.

Mike beamed and waved, "See you later. Bye, Erin." She walked away and Erin started leading me down the hallway in the opposite direction.

As we walked, I pondered the affect Forks had on its inhabitants. I hadn't even made it into a classroom yet and I had already made a fool of myself, tripping on air. Not even mentioning the weird way the people acted around me, what was with the stares? I felt like a zoo animal, a freak.

Mrs. Mason was a plump, aging woman who gaped at me when I approached her about signing the form for Mr. Cope. I could feel the skin on my neck and face turning bright red as I tried explaining who I was. At least she gave me a desk in the back, where it should've been harder for the other kids to stare at me. Somehow, they managed. I just kept my head down while she droned on about books I'd already read and their textbook-analyses.

After a couple of classes, I began to recognize the faces in each class. There usually was one of them that was braver than the others and would ask me small-talk questions, like how I liked Forks and what my next class was. On the plus side, I never had to use the map; there was always someone willing to walk me there.

I was on my way to Spanish class when I first saw them. They were standing by their lockers, chatting together quietly. They also weren't gawking at me, so it was one place I could look without meeting a pair of curious eyes.

They didn't look anything alike. The two guys were opposites. The blond one was tall, taller than even me, and as perfectly proportioned as an underwear model. He had the kind of body that made everyone either hate or love him for being the same room with them. His golden hair curled gently on top of his head, looking as shiny and soft as unspun silk. The other guy was pretty short, with spiky, ink-black hair. He was thin but still muscular, the way male ballerinas usually were.

One of the three girls was tall and well built, like she was a serious athlete of some kind, with long, dark, corkscrew-curly hair. Another one was shorter and wafer-thin, though still femininely figured, and honey blond. The third was of average height and pleasantly curvy, her coppery-brown hair hanging down to her waist in wild, untamed waves. She looked young enough to be in high school, whereas her companions would've fit better on a college campus.

Yet they were all very similar. Every one of them had chalky pale skin, even paler than me, the albino. They each had deep, purplish bruises under their eyes, like they were in serious need of sleep, and despite their varying hair color, they all had really dark eyes.

And each one of them was so… They were all so… _beautiful_. I couldn't seem to look away from them. It was devastating, inhuman even, how beautiful they were. They had faces that could've been crafted by some master artist; faces that belonged in paintings and airbrushed magazine pages, not in a low-profile town like Forks.

I was walking with a really short guy named Jesse, who was in my Trig class, and coincidentally, my Spanish class. I interrupted his anecdote about Mr. Varner, our math teacher, and asked, "Who are they?"

Jesse looked over to see who I meant – and immediately, the red haired girl turned. Her dark eyes flicked to both of us in turn, making me flush in embarrassment, and then she looked away again, more quickly than I could. She began talking to the tall, dark haired girl beside her, saying something with a smile that took my breath away.

Jesse grinned sheepishly as we continued walking, "Those are Dr. Cullen's kids. Emma, Elise, and Alex were adopted when they were little. Rhett and Josie, the blond ones, are twins. They were foster kids. I don't think their mom can have kids."

"They're… uh…" I murmured lamely.

"Yeah, I know," Jesse nodded, his eyes growing wide. "They're all hot. It just doesn't seem fair. And they're all _together_. Emma and Rhett and Alex and Josie, I mean. And they live together and everything… I don't know but something has to be wrong about that."

I didn't like his tone when he was saying all this, but I had to admit, even in Phoenix it would cause gossip.

The image of the red haired girl was stuck at the forefront of my mind, replaying again and again the stunning smile she'd aimed at her sister, the way her pale pink lips parted gently over her ultra-white teeth.

"Who's the one with red hair?" I asked as we walked into a classroom and picked our seats.

Jesse got a weird look on his face, "That's Elise. But I wouldn't waste my time if I were you. She doesn't date." He dumped his books on his desk, making unnecessary noise.

I turned away to hide my smile. It seemed we had a case of sour grapes in the desk to the left.

I saw them all again right after Spanish, sitting together in the lunchroom. They weren't talking or eating at all, staring at different sections of wall. Their table was set apart from the rest and no one else made any attempt to sit with them or talk with them. It was now plain to see that I wasn't the only freak in town. A bit of me was glad for it, but mostly I just felt sympathy.

Jesse and I sat at his friends' usual table. I forgot everybody's names almost as soon as they were told to me. The whole time I was sitting there, I was aware of the stares I was attracting, as I had been the entire day. Eating had never been such uncomfortable work for me before. The thing that got me through was Jesse's habit of filling an entire conversation with just the amount of words flooding out of his mouth. Without him taking up the time he did, I wouldn't have been able to get even a bite of my sandwich.

During a lull in the ask-Brennan-questions attack, I turned to look around me – and realized that Elise Cullen was staring right at me. Her dark, shadowy eyes were intense, her eyebrows scrunched together.

My face burned and I immediately turned away, but I could still feel her eyes on me. The look on her face puzzled me; she didn't look mad, exactly, but… annoyed? Worried? Why would she be looking at me that way?

My sudden upheaval of awkwardness attracted the attention of Jesse, who whispered, "Are you ok?"

I whispered back hoarsely, "Is Elise Cullen looking at me?"

Jesse looked over my shoulder, "Yeah, she is!" He sounded shocked.

"She doesn't look mad, does she?" I asked, self-consciously scratching at my chin.

"No," Jesse said. "Should she?"

I just shook my head, trying to invest myself in my food.

"She's still staring at you," Jesse whispered, halfway to laughing at my discomfort.

"Well, don't keep looking at her!" I hissed.

Jesse laughed, but did as I demanded, turning back to the conversation.

Soon, the Cullen family stood and left the lunchroom, throwing their untouched food into the garbage and exiting out into the constant rain. My crippling shyness perceived Elise Cullen and her family as someone to avoid, but I couldn't deny that at least a small part of me was fascinated. I found myself setting goals to say "Hi" sometime, though it most likely would be far, far ahead in the future. If only to find out why Elise had looked at me like that.

One of Jesse's friends had Biology II with me after lunch. He was kind enough to remind me that his name was Andrew Webber and, apparently, he was just as shy as I was. Our walk to class was almost completely silent, broken only by the squeak of his sensible boots and his offering me a stick of gum, which I declined.

Mrs. Banner's classroom/lab was nearly full when we arrived. Andrew left to sit at his table with his partner and I spotted Mike Newton toward the front of the classroom. She waved at me, smiling brightly.

The only empty seat was next to a familiar head of coppery red hair.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the walk to the front of the classroom, determined not to trip when all the attention was on me. Walking definitely was not my specialty.

As I passed the table where Elise Cullen was sitting, I saw her tense out of the corner of my eye. I discreetly turned to look toward her, in order to see what had happened – and immediately wished I hadn't. She was facing me, sitting on the edge of her seat, and was glaring at me with such animosity that I did a double take. Her terrifying expression didn't let up as I gaped at her. It was seriously breathtaking how beautiful this girl was, even when she looked about ready to attack me.

I quickly jerked my head down, scratching my cheek in an effort to hide the furious blush rising to my face.

Confused and bewildered, I continued on to Mrs. Banner's desk and introduced myself in a distracted, embarrassing stutter. She quickly found me a textbook and signed that form for Mr. Cope, and then told me to have a seat next to "Miss Cullen" in the back.

My heart was thudding with anxiety as I reluctantly turned around… only to see that the table was empty. Elise Cullen was gone, but her books and even her jacket were still there.

I sat quickly and pulled out a notebook, taking notes as diligently as if I'd never heard of Mitosis before, hyperaware for the moment when she would come back to class. I was tense the entire class period, but Elise didn't ever return.

When the bell rang, I forced myself to take a deep breath, releasing the tension around my lungs.

"Hi, Brennan!" Mike appeared next to me, smiling brightly.

"Hey," I answered, smiling back vaguely. "How's it going?"

Mike shrugged, "Good. Can I help you find your next class?"

"Sure," I said as I gathered up my books. "I've got Gym next." The absolute bane of my existence.

"Me too!" Mike said happily.

We left the classroom just as Mrs. Banner was gathering up Elise Cullen's abandoned belongings.

"Do you play any sports?" Mike asked from under her bright blue raincoat.

I laughed uncomfortably, "No. Sports aren't really my thing."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I'm not very good on my feet," I said honestly, wincing at how lame that must sound. "I don't really have the hand-eye coordination to play."

Mike pouted her lips, "Oh, I'm sure that isn't true."

I sighed resignedly; she'd find out soon enough, being in gym class with me. Back in Phoenix, I'd only needed two years of P.E., but here, it was mandatory all four years. One more reason to hate this place.

"Do you know what happened to Elise?" Mike suddenly asked. "I didn't see her leave."

My stomach clenched anxiously, remembered the livid expression on Elise's face. "No, I didn't."

Mike shrugged, "Maybe she got a text or something. An emergency."

That seemed reasonable regarding her abrupt departure, but it didn't explain her apparent hatred for me though. What had I done? Why would she act that way towards a person she'd never even talked to?

I was distracted the whole class, which made me even more klutzy than usual. People kept throwing me the basketball, whether it was because I was 6-foot or the new kid, I would never know. But they learned fairly quickly that I couldn't shoot to save my life. Several people were unfortunate enough to be too close when I tripped over my own feet and they went down with me. One kid actually got a face-full when I tried to pass the ball to him. Needless to say, my performance proved to Mike that I couldn't play sports.

Since it was the last class of the day and I was eager for it to be over, I was one of the first people finished in the locker rooms. I walked out of the gym alone, not bothering to wait for anyone, and intended to make straight for the office so I could give Mr. Cope his signatures – but then Elise Cullen appeared. Literally appeared right next to me, out of nowhere.

I jerked in surprise, staring at her wordlessly, my mouth hanging open. My heart stuttered and I blushed bright red, as was my curse, but for the life of me, I couldn't talk. What do you say to an incredibly gorgeous girl who was caught glaring at you for no reason? Especially one who had found you later and was now staring at you?

And she was. Staring at me with wide coal black eyes and a twitching perfectly formed mouth. She didn't move. She didn't even seem to breath.

I swallowed painfully hard. What did she want from me? That's what I would've asked if I could. Hello, my name is Brennan. Can I do something for you? Do you have a problem with me? I felt like some kind of bird caught in a snake's snare, unable to move but frightened beyond belief.

Someone else suddenly appeared behind Elise, snapping me out of the trance. I stepped back in shock and confusion. It was one of her brothers, the short, dark-haired one. How long had he been standing there? I hadn't seen him walk up.

Her brother didn't make any move to touch Elise, looking between her and me several times in quick succession. He didn't talk, standing very close behind Elise as if to protect her, his face serene. His dark eyes were just as intense as hers though.

Elise suddenly broke eye contact with me, bowing her head. Her shoulders were bunched, her hands clenched. She was leaning slightly forward, toward me.

Her pale, dark haired brother raised a hand as if to place it on her shoulder, but she shook her head and he lowered his hand, looking to me with a curious expression.

I stood there unmoving, probably looking like an idiot, while all of this went on. I probably could've said hello or something, but my brain seemed to be working on half its normal power and all I could think was "Get out of here!" I turned and practically ran away down the hall.

After my initial panic attack, I remembered where it was that I wanted to go and realized that I was walking in the opposite direction. Too embarrassed and freaked out to turn around, I kept on walking, telling myself that I'd find some roundabout way to the office.

Erin Yorkie soon found me and I kept a very good eye out for any of the Cullen family while she led me back to the office. I didn't see any of them, though, and the signature slip drop-off went off without a hitch. The difficulties came later when Mike Newton saw me walking out toward Main Street.

She pulled up beside me in her little old Chevy Cavalier, her radio blasting pop music, shouting through the passenger window, "Hey, Brennan, do you need a ride?"

"No, thanks," I answered readily, trying to subtly hint that I just wanted to be alone, rain or no rain.

"You sure?" she pressed, finally turning down her radio.

I nodded and adjusted my bag's strap.

"Ok," she said, one of her eyebrows cricked upward. "See you tomorrow." She drove away.

Four other people stopped to ask if I needed a ride and I turned down all of them, getting more frustrated every time. It may or may not have been due to my internal musings.

Eventually, I got back to the house. The empty, silent, chilly house scattered with law books and file folders.

I had a time getting my sneakers off, which were so wet they acted like suction cups to my feet. My clothes were completely soaked through and I could feel the cold all the way to my center, so I went straight up to the bathroom. After peeling my clothes off and draping them over the shower rod, I took the hottest, longest shower of my life.

What the heck had happened today?

I changed into some dry jeans and a hoodie and attempted to start my English essay for Mrs. Mason, but I found that I was too antsy to sit around for very long. I ended up calling Everett, one of my old friends in Phoenix. He wasn't able to talk for very long, but his usual banter about girls and homework served its purpose; my anxiety had calmed considerably by the time he had to go.

I didn't tell him about Elise Cullen. Everett would've definitely been interested to hear about her, but I didn't tell him. I didn't understand why, though. I hadn't done anything condemnable or unusually embarrassing. Anything I would have to say would be about Elise's strange behavior, but I guess it seemed too much like gossiping. I didn't even bring it up with my mom when she came home.

As I lay in bed that night, unable to sleep, I began planning what I would say to Elise Cullen in Biology class tomorrow. I wanted to demand what her problem was or even tell her diplomatically that I didn't care what she thought about me. I knew I was a lot braver in my head than I would be in actuality. I'd probably just try ignoring her.

I was a paranoid wreck the entire next day. I kept thinking that Elise would turn a corner and I would be stuck under her stare again, unable to move while everyone else walked around me.

When lunch rolled around, I couldn't help searching out the Cullens' table. Elise's unique coppery hair color was absent. When I'd made that realization, I couldn't help the increase of anxiety. It didn't help that her family kept glancing over at me and talking quietly together.

I didn't allow myself to think too hard about her absence during lunch. She could've just forgone the cafeteria food today. I didn't know for sure that she was avoiding me. Not yet.

She wasn't in Biology. I sat alone again.

After a week, I didn't bother worrying anymore.


	2. Introductions

My first weekend in Forks was generally uneventful. Carly had to work for most of it, but she was able to make it to Betty Black's birthday party, much to the surprise of everyone.

I spent a lot of my time with Jackie at the party. She was still in the excitable stage of her teen years, but she had this easiness about her that was addictive. She kind of reminded me of my dad, in a way. I was surprised to find out that I was genuinely interested in what she talked about too. She hadn't been lying when she said that she knew cars; she showed me the old VW Rabbit she was working on, explaining how hard it was to find parts that she could afford.

I was actually kind of jealous of Jackie. I'd never been inherently good at anything. Everything to do with footwork, like sports or dancing, was out of the question. I'd never been mechanically minded and I didn't have the eye required for art. Basically, I was good at writing essays and that was it.

"Earth to Brennan! Did you hear what I said?" Jesse's voice entered my cocoon of thoughts.

I dragged myself back to the lunchroom and looked to him, "Sorry, no. What did you say?"

"I said," he said from the corner of his mouth, smirking, "Elise Cullen is staring at you."

My heart stopped and my head jerked directly to the Cullens' lunch table. Elise Cullen's striking reddish-brown hair would've identified her immediately, even if she hadn't been looking right at me.

Inevitably, I blushed bright red and bent my head, suddenly loosing my appetite.

The good thing was, she didn't look very mad today. Maybe she'd just been having a bad day when I met her… which had turned into a very bad week, causing her to be absent from school. The reasonableness of my thoughts didn't soothe my stomach one iota.

"Is she still staring at me, Jesse?" I asked later.

Jesse glanced over my shoulder and shook his head, "Not anymore. Come on, you need to lighten up. Maybe she thinks you're cute! That'd be a first for her!"

"I don't think she likes me very much," I admitted, leaning my head in my hands.

"The Cullens don't like anyone," he sniffed.

Mike suddenly exclaimed, "The forecast says it's supposed to snow tomorrow!"

The cheers that went up around me would've astounded me if I weren't already preoccupied with the fact that Elise Cullen had returned. Who in their right minds would cheer about snow?

I actually thought I might be sick as Andrew, Mike and I walked to Biology together. What the heck was I supposed to do? What should I say to her? I'd rehearsed this a million times in my head, but with it actually about to happen, everything I thought of seemed insanely stupid.

Elise wasn't there by the time we arrived, for which I was relieved. I sat down and opened my books. I started doodling in the margins of my notebook in an effort to ditch the nerves. I kept telling myself that I didn't have any reason to be nervous. I hadn't done anything wrong. This was Elise Cullen's problem, not mine.

My stomach jumped when I heard her pull out her stool and sit down. I didn't look up. It took everything I had to look as if I was ignoring her. It was all I could do, really. I didn't have it in me to start a conversation with someone who hated my guts.

"Hello, Brennan."

I looked up in pure shock that she was speaking to me.

Elise had a pleasant smile on her lips. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I'm Elise Cullen." Her voice was soft and low, ringing like rich bell tones. It sent chills up my spine.

I blinked stupidly at the sudden change of events and murmured the first thing that came to my mind, "How do you know my name?"

Elise's smile widened, hitting me like a physical punch to the stomach. "I think everyone here knows your name, Brennan. You're very popular around here."

I suddenly remembered how to inhale, saying absently, "I don't know why." Feeling a bit light-headed, I turned away, hating how weird that must've sounded. It'd just slipped out.

Mrs. Banner started her lecture about the different stages of Meiosis, but I wasn't paying very much attention. My thoughts kept returning to the beautiful girl sitting next to me.

Soon enough, though, Mrs. Banner set us loose with an assignment, which we were supposed to do with our partners. When I turned toward Elise with the intent of asking which parts of the worksheet she remembered, she was leaning away from me. She had her face turned away from me, as if she smelled something bad. Her hands were clenched on her thighs.

Being as discreet as I could, I pulled my t-shirt away from me and checked, but all I could smell was my cheap deodorant.

Not wanting to bother her, I just started in on the assignment alone. I knew all the answers anyway from my advanced placement in Phoenix.

"Do you like science, Brennan?" Elise suddenly asked.

I looked up and was once again distracted by the sheer amount of beauty coming off her. Shaking myself mentally, I answered, "Sure. It's alright."

"But it's not your favorite?" she prompted.

I shrugged, "I typically do better in my English classes, but science is interesting too."

Elise leaned in a little to look at the assignment, saying, "Well, you certainly know enough about science to answer all of these. I'm almost frightened to see your grades in English."

I smiled weakly and scratched the back of my head, unsure how to respond to that.

Elise Cullen had a classic style of talking that I found fascinating. How many teenagers used the word 'frightened' anymore? The precise way she pronounced every word made me think of the really old black-and-white films Penny would watch.

"What about you?" I asked, feeling awkward. "Do you have a favorite subject?"

Elise smiled crookedly, "Not especially. I do enjoy History classes, but not for reasons most people would appreciate."

That peeked my curiosity. "What do you mean?"

Elise looked at me from the corner of her eye, as if trying to size me up. "I guess you could say that I'm a history buff. History textbooks… amuse me."

I didn't quite get why that would hard for people to 'appreciate,' but I nodded politely and let it go.

Working together, Elise and I finished the assignment well before the other students. I could see Tayla Crowley and Bailey Cheney trying to sneak peaks at the book under their table. Andrew Webber was staring hard at his own assignment, tapping his head with his pencil and his tongue caught between his teeth.

"Did you hear about the snow tomorrow?" Elise asked, clearing her throat. "Exciting, isn't it?"

"Not really," I said quietly. I was surprised again by my honesty. Maybe her looks were meddling with my wits.

"You don't like the cold," she stated. It wasn't a question.

I shook my head. "Not one bit."

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but if you dislike the cold so much, why move here, of all places?" she asked, seemingly going out of her way to be polite. Her light-brown, almost-gold eyes looked at me curiously.

Distracted by her eye-color, I blurted out, "My dad… he uh… he and my stepmom got a job offer."

Elise tilted her head, her glistening, penny-colored hair draping over one shoulder. "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand."

I threw caution to the wind and started into the whole story. "My dad and my stepmom are talent scouts for a record company. Not a big one, but you know… they love their job. Anyway, they were offered a gig to travel to different countries for twice the pay they were getting. Penny can speak basically every language in the book, and my dad is the friendliest guy they have, so they were the perfect fit. They couldn't very well leave a minor in Phoenix alone, so I moved here with my mom."

"That doesn't seem very fair," Elise said, catching me off-guard with the tense undertone in her voice, as if she really needed to cough but wasn't able to.

"What doesn't?" I asked distractedly, noticing the way her hands were balled up on her thighs, like she might be in pain. Her face was absolutely serene though, which confused me.

"That you were sent here so your parents could take the job," she said, calling my attention back to the conversation with blinding force.

"No one sent me here," I said a little more sharply than I'd intended.

Elise looked confused now, not saying anything.

I clarified, replying tersely, "My dad deserved the job. I came here so he could take it."

Elise didn't seem upset by my defensiveness though, saying, "But now you're unhappy."

"So?" I realized I was being a bit of a jerk, but I couldn't really help it. Kind of a touchy subject.

Elise shook her head, "It just doesn't seem fair to me."

"Ever heard the saying that life isn't fair?" I said in an effort to lighten the mood, smiling.

Elise smiled back at me, stealing my breath. "It does sound fairly familiar."

The look on her beautiful face was so gentle that I found myself staring. The apples of her lily-white cheeks relaxed, the full curve of her mouth flushed to a healthy pink, her amber eyes bright beneath her shadowy eyelashes.

"Do you wear contacts?" I suddenly found myself asking. I regretted it immediately as Elise smiled at me in amusement.

"No, I don't," she said lightly. "Why?"

"Nothing," I answered, trying to quickly brush it off. "I just thought you're eyes were a different color before. That's all."

Elise's smile vanished. "Oh." She turned her attention to the front of the classroom and didn't try talking to me again the whole class period. She seemed angry again, her jaw clenched and she stared ahead. Her pale hands alternated between viscously gripping the table and viscously gripping her seat. She seemed ready to launch herself off the stool, as if she couldn't stand sitting where she was for much longer.

I had different feelings concerning my science partner now. She'd acted friendly enough when she was talking to me, but she looked like she was in pain several times during the class period. Maybe she had a medical condition I didn't know about?

The bell rang and Elise was out the door before most of us were even out of our seats.

I watched her go with mixed feelings. I realized that I'd just had the chance to ask her what had happened last week, like the scene with her brother and all of the glaring. Looks like hers could make a guy forget his own name.

"Did you stab Elise with a pencil or something?" Mike asked laughingly as she approached my table. "I don't think I've ever seen that girl run before."

So she didn't normally act like that? That put a bit of a hole in my theory.

I stood, gathering up my things. "Maybe she just wanted to get to class early?" I answered.

Mike snorted inelegantly. "That certainly would fit the description. All the Cullens are teacher's pets."

I just shrugged and led the way out the doors.

"So, I saw you guys talking," Mike hedged. "What did you talk about?"

"Just about classes and stuff," I answered, shrugging. "I guess she likes History."

"Who likes history?" Jesse appeared next to us as we were walking to the gym.

"Elise Cullen, apparently," Mike answered for me. I got the impression that Mike didn't like Elise very much, but that seemed the case with most kids.

After school, I walked the short distance to work.

The good thing about being a groundskeeper is that you don't need a whole lot of hand-eye coordination. You can take as much time as you needed, as long as you get the job done, and plants could be very forgiving if you dropped them.

My job was the best. Sure, I was only getting eight dollars an hour and most of my time was spent outdoors in the rain, but I also got to talk with funny, retired people. As narcissistic as it sounds, the burn of my muscles after a long day made me feel a bit more masculine. I was already getting callouses on my hands with only a week under my belt.

Jerry Coulter, the fulltime groundskeeper at Laurel Springs Retirement Home, was about ready to enter retirement himself. His back was as straight as an arrow and his hearing was flawless, but he refused to wear glasses and his eyes were getting ridiculously weak. A lot of my job was making sure Jerry didn't accidently grab the wrong end of a pair of sheers or try using a lawn chair to mow the grass. The hardest part about it was not laughing. Jerry got really embarrassed about it, and by embarrassed, I mean angry.

Technically, the job description had me gardening, but over the years, Jerry had taken up a lot of the maintenance around the mansion. This part of the job required a lot more diligence on my part, but I was starting to get the hang of it. I'd only dropped four light bulbs and fallen off the ladder twice, none of the incidents resulting in serious injury.

And if I was being honest, being inside the mansion with all the elderly people was my favorite part. Making friends with people from other eras was just so much easier for me, for whatever reason. These old peoples' loneliness practically guaranteed their loving a goody-good like me anyway.

Today, I was transferring a couple of rosebushes that Jerry had accidently planted in the middle of the lawn this morning. I was trying to work quickly while he was fixing the systems on the industrial fridge in the kitchen, so he wouldn't be embarrassed. The rain made digging slightly easier, but a lot messier; my raincoat was splattered in mud.

I was thinking about Elise and her siblings as I worked. None of them seemed to fit in at school. They were loners; kept to themselves. I had to wonder at that, with them being so ridiculously good-looking. Maybe it made everyone uncomfortable, how beautiful they all were? Elise was friendly enough to me today, despite her odd behavior last week.

"Back again, eh, Bradley?" warbled an old voice from the deck behind me. Mrs. Quaker shuffled out the door with her walker, peering at me with enormously magnified eyes and a smile.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be here everyday after school," I answered with a smile, carefully setting my shovel down and walking forward to grab a chair for her.

"Which is such a pleasant surprise," she said as I helped her sit down and grabbed a thick quilt from inside to place over her bony legs. "Young people these days don't have any kind of work ethic. Everything is just given to them. Like my grandson down there in Florida. That boy has the worst sense of responsibility I've ever seen. It's nice to see a young man like yourself, not afraid to get your hands dirtied up." Her dramatic speech had me equal parts amused and self-conscious.

I shrugged diplomatically and said, "I enjoy being here, Mrs. Quaker."

"You're a good boy, Bradley," she replied, patting my hand. "Don't let anyone tell you differently."

I just blushed, murmured a thank you, and went back to digging while Mrs. Quaker prattled on about her life before retirement. Several other inhabitants of the house soon joined her on the porch and they were quickly distracted by each other, leaving me to my shovel and rosebushes. I listened as I worked, finding myself drawn into their stories, captivated.

Not for the first time, I wondered if it might possible that I was supposed to be born sometime in the past.

I'd just finished with the sixth bush and was about to dig the seventh hole, when I heard a shocked and pain-filled yell from around the other side of the big house. Several lights in the house suddenly turned off.

I was frozen for a second, but when I didn't hear anything else, I dropped my shovel and hurried over to the corner. The elderly folks sitting on the porch leaned out over the railing as I passed.

At first, I didn't see anyone, but then I noticed the open electricity box. I felt my stomach sink when I saw Jerry lying on the ground beneath it.

"Mr. Coulter?!" I called loudly, slipping on the wet grass in my haste to get to him. "Are you ok?"

Jerry was struggling to rise, grumbling under his breath. His hands were ugly shades of red and black. "Where'd that girl go?" he suddenly asked, turning his head this way and that. "She pushed me into the mud…"

"It's just me, Mr. Coulter," I explained. "What happened to your hands?" I asked, unsure if I should try helping him up or if I should make sure he didn't move. I remembered from some of my health classes that moving a victim could potentially damage them more than it would help them.

"I just got the damn circuits crossed," he growled, finally rising to his elbow. "I'm fine! I'm still breathing, aren't I?"

The fact that he was breathing meant little to me right now. I had no idea what electric shocks did to the human body; all I knew for sure was that Jerry needed medical expertise.

An ambulance arrived barely two minutes after one of the other caregivers called for it and Jerry was loaded into the back, grumbling and cursing. The EMT said he was acting fine, but that they needed him at the hospital for the doctor's opinion.

After I had cleaned up the rosebush mess and called an electrician to fix the house, I went straight to the hospital. It took me twenty minutes to walk all the way, but at least it stopped raining long enough for me to get there.

Jerry might not appreciate my visit, being the way he was, but I felt responsible for the old man. I might not have known how to help him with the electricity, but I could've been there to ask what color of wire he needed or what switch he wanted to pull. I would've disguised it as a lesson that he could teach me, to spare his embarrassment.

I went to the receptionist's desk, saying, "Hi. There was a man just brought in for electrical shock. Jerry Coulter. I was just wondering what was happening with him."

The receptionist in scrubs looked through her computer and said, "I'm sorry, the doctor hasn't been able to see him yet. But judging by that alone, I'm sure he's not in terrible danger. Would you like to see him?"

I hesitated, "Am I allowed to?" In a Phoenix hospital, there was no way I'd be able to visit a non-family member before the doctor discharged them to Recovery.

"It shows here that all his family is in Detroit," the receptionist said. "They've been notified, but it could be days before they get here. I'm sure he'd be glad to have someone."

I was pretty sure he'd tell me to go home as soon as he saw me, but I decided to take the receptionist's offer, saying, "Sure. I'd like to see him."

The receptionist smiled and got up to lead me to Jerry's room, but someone from behind me spoke up.

"I can take him, Rachel," the clear, musical voice said.

I turned to see who it was who'd talked, and froze. It was one of Elise Cullen's incredibly handsome brothers, the shorter one who'd been 'protecting' her in the hallway last week.

He wasn't looking at me, smiling at Rachel, the receptionist, politely. "I was talking to my mom just before she went to Jerry Coulter's room. I know where to find it."

"Thank you," Rachel said vaguely, staring. Who could blame her? The fluorescent lighting made his pale skin glow, his spiky black hair reflecting the light as if it were obsidian. Not to mention he had one of those smooth voices, not exactly deep but powerful, definitely masculine. Poor ladies just didn't stand a chance.

"No problem," Elise's brother said cheerfully, his voice soft.

He turned to me then, saying, "I'm Alex. Alex Cullen." He didn't move to shake my hand.

"Brennan Swan," I said, though I was fairly certain he already knew my name. Everyone in this town had known it before I even came here. I'll bet Carly was telling everyone about the move for months.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Brennan," Alex said, smiling brightly. "The room's this way." He gestured to a hallway on the left and began walking, me trailing behind him.

"Elise told me your dad is a talent scout for a recording label," Alex said, pulling a sleek phone out of his pocket and glancing at the screen. "I bet you grew up around a lot of music."

I nodded, "Yeah, I did."

"So what's your favorite genre?" he suddenly asked me, genuinely curious.

I was a little caught off guard by the abruptness of the question, but answered as best as I could, "Uh… I grew up around old rock and Indie stuff. But… you know, I kind of like the old jazz singers too, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, that kind of stuff."

"You have good taste, Brennan," Alex's eyes seemed to glow. They were the same color as his sister's.

Uncomfortable, I stayed silent and followed the strange angel-faced brother-of-Elise's through the hospital. I'd never been good at graciously accepting compliments; there was no way I could take one from a Cullen.

Alex's phone suddenly started to ring. He pulled it back out of his pocket and sighed when he looked at the caller-ID. "Elise," he explained. "I'm sorry, but she'd very well kill me if I didn't answer." The way he said that made me think he actually believed what he said. "Jerry's room is just down this hallway, third on the left. I'll see you later, Brennan!" he called cheerily with a bright white smile, and turned, answering his phone as he walked away. I didn't hear him say hello, but it appeared that he was listening.

I'd heard Jesse say that Alex was a little weird, and I didn't dispute that, but I couldn't help feeling there was a meaning behind the madness, to use the phrase. Jesse's feelings toward Alex definitely leaned toward mocking, but Alex had a certain look in his eye that made me think he had secrets.

I suddenly realized that I'd been standing in the hallway alone like an idiot and quickly ducked my head, walking the rest of the way to Jerry's room.

The doctor was standing with her back to me, next to the hospital bed. Jerry was sitting in front of her, staring at her finger while she shined a little flashlight into his eyes.

As I watched, she clicked the flashlight off and stuck it into her lab coat pocket, her straight, platinum blond ponytail swinging, "Alright, Mr. Coulter. I'm sure you'll be fine in the long run, but I want you to be aware that you were extremely lucky this time." Her calm voice was hypnotizing, supple and sweet as honey. Just listening to her, I felt my heart rate ease up a little.

"Oh, I'll be alright, sweetheart," Jerry said, waving his hand. He always called anyone of the female denomination 'sweetheart,' but the way he said it now was almost tender. "Don't know why everybody made such a ruckus. I'll just be getting out of here. Lots to do…"

"Mr. Coulter," the doctor chided softly, putting a gentle hand on his arm to keep him from getting up, "I'm going to insist that you see an optometrist." When Jerry made to argue, she added, "Mr. Coulter, under the law, I can insist that you be forced into retirement if I deem it necessary. I do not want any more accidents like this happening needlessly."

Jerry's lips contorted under his grizzly white beard, but I could see that he wasn't mad.

"If you will promise to me to go see the optometrist down the street, I will discharge you within an hour. Do we have a deal?" the doctor asked kindly, and I could tell Jerry would cave. The old man was such a big teddy bear. Not to mention a workaholic.

As expected, Jerry nodded, moving to lie down in his bed again and his doctor began writing something on a clipboard, turning around.

I almost gasped at the sight of her. She was stunning. Literally. So beautiful it was just unfair.

Then I made the connection in my head.

Dr. Cullen looked at me, smiling in a relaxed way, "Hello. Are you here to see Mr. Coulter?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I work with him. I was there when the accident happened. Sort of." My reaction time for the Cullen family's effect was getting better.

"What are you doing here, Brennan?" Jerry asked indignantly. "You should be getting home. Storm's a brewing. Don't want to be caught in a snow storm, do you?"

"I just wanted to check on you, Mr. Coulson," I said. "But now that I see you're ok, I'll just get out of here. Do you want me to call Pam for you?"

"I can call her myself, boy," Mr. Coulson answered gruffly. "Go on, get outta here. The snow's gonna be here soon."

"Alright. See you tomorrow, Mr. Coulson," I said, turning around and walking right back out the way I came.

Dr. Cullen was right behind me, "It's very nice of you to come see him."

I shrugged, "Not really a big deal. He's really going to be fine?"

"Yes, he should be," Dr. Cullen nodded. "Miraculously, his heart and lungs weren't affected by the shock. The worst damage done was the burns on his hands. He's lucky that he hadn't been in contact with the wires for very long."

I suddenly remembered Jerry lying on the ground, looking around him and muttering about a girl… "Wouldn't anyone be hurt if they touched him when he was still connected to the house? Because of the electrical current?" I asked.

Dr. Cullen's eyes tensed, "Did Mr. Coulson tell you something he didn't tell us?"

"It's just uh… when I found him, he said a girl pushed him to the ground," I answered. "I didn't see anyone, though."

Dr. Cullen's eyes suddenly relaxed again, and she smiled, "The brain is a hive of electrical activity. It is entirely possible that an electrical shock could mix up signals and sometimes cause hallucinations. Mr. Coulter's MRI showed no real signs of trauma to his brain, so my guess is that the shock threw him back and some kind of memory was triggered. Mr. Coulter should be just fine with a little rest."

I got the feeling Dr. Cullen was hiding something, but couldn't find any reason for her to lie about Jerry's accident. Why would she?

"Who are your parents, Brennan?" Dr. Cullen suddenly asked. "You look so familiar…"

I felt my face start to burn, "My mom's the D.A. Carly Thompson."

"Ah yes," Dr. Cullen said fondly. "You have the same brown eyes. Isn't your name Brennan? Brennan Swan?"

I nodded shyly. "How'd you know?"

"I talk to your mother every once in a while," Dr. Cullen said, shrugging. "Usually about the medical evidence of one case or another."

Figures. "Sounds like my mom," I said, stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets.

Dr. Cullen laughed lightly, making me feel a little dizzy, "Be sure to tell her I said hello."

"I will," I said vaguely as she said farewell and walked away.

On my way home, my head was full of the Cullen family and their knack for being where I was. I was fairly certain that I wasn't being stalked, but I couldn't rule it out just yet.

Carly was pulling into the driveway just as I was turning the corner. Surprisingly, she was trying to grab groceries out of the back of her car when I reached the lawn. I couldn't remember the last time my mom when grocery shopping.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, coming up behind her and stealing most of the bags out of her arms.

After her initial shock of my appearance, Carly chuckled, "No occasion. I just thought it might be nice to have dinner at home every once in a while."

"Hmm," I nodded, trying not to be worried about what my mother might have in store in the way of meals.

I was pleasantly surprised; my mom isn't that bad of a cook, just exactly what you'd expected from any working mom.

While I was getting seconds of the casserole she'd somehow concocted out of tater-tots and condensed mushroom soup, Carly asked, "So, how was your day today? What did you do at work?"

I'd kind of been hoping she wouldn't ask. My tendency to blush made me a terrible liar.

"Jerry had to go to the hospital," I said quietly as I sat back down.

Carly's wide eyes greeted me over her ever-present coffee cup. "What happened?" Her voice was tensed the way only a mother's voice could be.

"He was trying to fix an electrical problem and got shocked," I hurried. "I wasn't around when it happened. But he's going to be fine."

"Well, I guess that's something," Carly said. "But really, Brennan, should you be…"

I interrupted her, "Jerry knows what he's doing, Mom. It's just his eyesight. Besides, Dr. Cullen is making him get glasses so this doesn't happen again."

That seemed to alleviate some of the worry, but there was still a wrinkle between her eyebrows that I didn't like seeing.

I changed the subject. "Dr. Cullen told me to say hi for her. She seems really nice."

The wrinkle vanished and Carly smiled, "Carol's been invaluable in some of my cases."

I hesitated, wanting to know more but not wanting to seem prying, "I've met some of her kids. They aren't very… popular at school."

Carly suddenly looked frustrated, upset even. "People in this town. They all feel a sense of entitlement, just because they all grew up here." She stood up, refilling her coffee mug. "Dr. Cullen is the best doctor this town could hope for. She doesn't have to work here; a doctor with her qualifications and talent would be welcomed anywhere she applied. If anyone has a problem with her or her family, they can just keep it to themselves."

This was the longest speech I'd ever heard Carly make outside of the courtroom. I wondered what had happened to make her feel so strongly about the Cullens.

"So they didn't grow up here?" I asked.

"No. They moved down from Alaska about two years ago," Carly answered. "I'm not sure why, but I'm sure it wasn't anything illegal, like some people have had the gall to say. Honestly…" she muttered, shaking her head as she walked into her office.

I watched her go silently, mulling everything over.

The Cullens were intriguing.

This was the only thing I was certain of as I stood brushing my teeth that night. Their inhumanly good looks. Their alienation from the rest of the town. Elise's strange reaction to me in Biology. Alex's peculiar conversation-starter at the hospital. Dr. Cullen's perceived secret about Jerry's accident. I didn't have answers for anything.

But I had questions. And if I was courteous, Elise might just answer some of them.


End file.
